The Devil's Daughter
by DarkMarkBella
Summary: She was the Devil's daughter. And she had come to play. Bellatrix and Draco have been given their orders. [Set during HBP]
1. Chapter 1

**She was the Devil's daughter. And she had come to play.**

_[This is set during The Half Blood Prince. We open the evening after Bellatrix and Narcissa have visited Severus at Spinners End. I'm not sure yet how far after the book I plan to take this, but this story details the events of HBP from the side of Lord Voldemort and his followers._

_There will be blood, torture, probably sex and all manner of dark, incestuous debauchery. You have been warned. This is a dark story. ]_

**Chapter one.**

The night was still. The air held remnants of ice, moving silently over the grass verge and down into the valley. Beside a moss-covered rock, a red fox paused, one foot frozen misstep as ears twitched rapidly, frantically listening for sounds of life. For a moment, none came. The grass froze, the fox held a breath.

Then a scream pierced the night.

The fox bolted. Half a metre down the slope a white flash hit it head on. A strangled yelp, a gasp – then, blood.

Silence fell once more.

A moment passed. The wilted carcass pumped streams of blood, black as night, onto the grass. It dripped like a perverse waterfall, avoiding the sharp blades of grass.

A step and a broken twig cracked through the night. A figure bent down. Long, dark, feminine curls dipped in the animals life for a moment as the figure observed the dead. Another whimper, and the woman turned abruptly, returning her attention to the place she had ventured from.

Feet away from the fox stood a large oak tree, branches leafless and bare from the autumn passed. Bound to the tree was a young woman, her fair hair melted to her face by sweat. When the hooded female approached, she gave another moan of fear, squinting blood shot eyes as though sheer will could wish her free.

The cloaked woman laughed, guttural and perverse. She leant down, forcing the young woman's face up at an awkward angle, straining her neck. "I will ask you a final time," she hissed, voice rich with unrestrained fury. "Is he a spy?"

Beneath the binds, the woman shook. "I don't know, I swear I don't know." Sobs wracked her body and she was unable to speak, resigned to the knowledge no amount of promises would spare her fate. In a flash, a sharp dagger pressed into the soft skin of her neck, slicing it just shy of the artery. Blood pooled in her collar bone, the warmth little contest to the ice that was prevalent in her torturers eyes.

"You will answer me." It was an order, an expectation, rather than a statement. "Do you know who I am? What I'm capable of?" Best she could, the blonde nodded. "Say my name. Say it!"

"Bellatrix Lestrange," came the strangled reply. "Please, I swear I –" A red flash hit her chest and she screamed for a moment before blackness enveloped her.

Panting from exertion and arousal, Bellatrix released her hold of the woman, letting the dagger catch a drop of blood as she pulled away. She sneered at the woman, knowing all too well what she was capable of doing to her. It was always more fun when they were conscious.

Behind her, a tell-tale 'snap' marked an arrival, and she knew who to expect before she turned to him. Fenir Greyback could smell traitor-blood a mile off. As he approached, she brought the dagger up to her mouth, tongue darting out to lap up a drop of the thick fluid. It coated her full lips and she knew he'd be watching. It was the game they played.

"She's a pretty one, Bella," he growled, the animalistic quality he retained even in human form was always darkly arousing to her. "Or was before you got started."

Quietly, she tutted. "Blood can be… stimulating," Bellatrix offered, the corners of her lips pulling up as she watched his eyes dart from the battered female to her and the droplets of red that adorned her chest and neck.

Fenir simply grunted an approval.

"Besides," she continued turning to the bound girl, "she almost looks like Cissy." And with that, Bellatrix dipped her head, pressing her lips to the woman's neck, tasting the blood and sweat that lingered by her pulse. "Tastes like scum, though. You can have her." A smirk was flashed up at the werewolf and she felt the woman stir a little beneath her.

"Heard you paid Snape a visit this afternoon," Fenir said, voice dark and gravely in the silent air. "Pettigrew told me. Eavesdropping is his only talent. Didn't know you kept such company, Bellatrix."

She glared, fingers tightening around her wand. Abruptly, she stood, marching towards him without lowering her eyes. "You know full well how I feel about that half-blood. It was purely business." Hatred burned within her. "He has his uses. If he wants to play the willing sacrifice, so be it. But I'm not going to celebrate his attempts at bravery like Narcissa."

Fenir laughed. "You sister was a fool to go there. And you, following her, risking the favour of your dear Master." Again, he let out a grunt as a spark formed at the end of her wand. "Found you heart have you, Bella? You always would do anything for your sister and her boy, but risking the dark lord's cause?"

"You are not in a position to be judging me, half-breed," the witch spat, flicking her wand up to rest at his breastbone. "The only reason my master has not killed you yet is that I told him of your service and assistance. You'd do well to remember that."

Fenir backed down, though anger radiated from him. Around them, the air fell still as thought fearing the dark witch's temper. "What's she for?" he asked, finally, gesturing to the captive.

Distracted from her rage, Bellatrix turned back to her victim, smiling slightly at the sight. "I don't trust Snape," came her only explanation. "Is he still at the manor?"

"No, he left when I did. The Dark Lord is telling Draco his orders. Marking him."

"Jealous?" she asked, referring to the mark she knew he didn't hold.

Fenir ignored her. "You should go. Tonight is a big night for him."

With a snap, Bellatrix apparated into the courtyard of Malfoy Manor, savouring the cool crispness of the night that seemingly followed her everywhere. The stone statues and figurines cast eerie shadows over the grass and paving, and the witch glared at them silently, as though daring them to step up and challenge her. Since her escape from Azkaban, she spent as much time as she could manage outside, free with the elements. It was common for her to take victims and people of interest to isolated meadows and remote lakes to experience the thrill of the outdoors and relish in the screams that could radiate so freely.

It was revitalizing.

The thought of returning to Azkaban was frightening, though she wouldn't admit that. The memories of her time there played on her mind almost constantly. There was little release. She longed for a quiet mind.

Taking a breath, she pushed the hood of her cloak down and moved towards the big oak door north west of the largest statue. A smell of smoke and wine met her, and she anticipated a large crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN. Sorry this has taken so long. I had a lot going on. But I'm back in the flow of wirting again and this should come thick and fast. Please leave your thoughts behind. _

The crowd of men gathered by the fireplace turned to watch as Bellatrix strode in, heels clipping on the hard floor. She brushed thick curly hair away from her face, wand still out and poised for attack. The fire flickered wildly and the people in front of it stepped to the side to allow the witch past towards the young boy, Draco Malfoy, who stood, back straight, next to his mother, Narcissa.

"Ah Bellatrix," came a voice from behind a large chair. "I was starting to worry you weren't coming."

The Dark Lord stood, turning to the group of people with a sinister smile. His snake-like face gleamed in the firelight and His eyes, red as the blood on her chest, surveyed the room.

"Wouldn't miss it, my Lord," said Bellatrix, returning his smile with an impassioned one. "Tonight is an important night."

She felt eyes on her as she stopped, standing tall, in front of the chair. She had forgotten her appearance, still splattered with blood and she gave the group a smug smirk before waving her wand to remove the marks. She stowed her wand at her side; ever since her escape from Azkaban she would not be without it. Her wand gave her power and control and she had felt so out of control and broken during her incarceration. To be without her wand would be a return to that place.

"I see you've been having fun," Voldemort said amusedly, pointing to the fading stains. "But you should know where I place my trust is solid." His tone now held hints of annoyance, and Bellatrix flushed in shame, knowing she had been caught out. The Dark Lord trusted Snape whereas she did not. But He had always discredited her suspicions, resolute in His belief that He had placed his faith in the correct man. Bellatrix didn't like to speak out and irritate her master, so she closed her mind to his invasions, trying to keep hidden her and her sisters visit to Spinner's End.

"Now, we come to an important moment," Voldemort spoke out to the group of people. "I'm giving my Mark to the youngest yet; an impressive feat, Draco, to earn my tasking so young."

Draco looked afraid and cast his eyes down. Bellatrix narrowed hers, not used to playing second to her Master's praises. Narcissa placed her hand on her sons arm, trembling slightly at the knowledge she was giving up her son to the Dark Lord's command. She didn't bear the Mark, and she wasn't keen for her son to either. Bellatrix read her sisters concern and shot her a small smile, letting her know without words that what was about to happen was a great honour in her eyes.

Voldemort gestured for people to step back, and the group formed a small gathering in front of the Dark Lord. He turned to Draco, grasping hold of his left arm. Slowly, He took out His wand, pointing the tip of it to Draco's skin.

Bellatrix took a step forward, eyes hungry. She sucked in a breath of delight as black ink started to spill out from Voldemort's wand and the shape of the Dark Mark started to take form. Upon completion, Draco looked at his arm with a lilt of smugness, proud he had been chosen to carry out Voldemort's wishes. Bellatrix grasped hold of his arm and knelt in front of him. Pulling him to her, she bent her head low and licked up his arm across the Dark Mark. He sucked in a breath at her contact, feeling a shiver run down his spine. Her eyes never left the Mark as she smiled with a curious fire beneath her eyes. "Welcome, Draco," she murmured to her nephew, tongue now playing on her lips.

Draco gave a small smile as she stood, stepping closer to her sister. "It is a great honour, Cissy," she said. "You should be proud." Her fingers traced her sister's face, brushing away a single tear that had leaked out of Narcissa's eye. The group around them murmured their approval.

"Now, let us discuss the plan," Voldemort said, turning to the group. "You may leave." He gestured to the men in front of him and they looked disappointed not to be included in the rest of the meeting. Slowly, they began to disperse, each heading towards the large oak door, some with a jealous glance back to Bellatrix.

Once the room was emptied of Death Eaters, Voldemort turned to the two witches and the boy.

"There is a Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement, Draco," Voldemort began, eyes gleaming as he explained his plans. "It has a sister in Borgin and Burkes. In proper working order they will form a passage allowing entrance into Hogwarts even whilst protected by the Aurors." The Dark Lord paused, taking in Draco's look of understanding. "Yes," He continued. "You understand me right. You will be taught to mend it and, when the time is right, you will allow Bellatrix through the Cabinet into the school. "

Draco nodded, feeling this was within his ability. He felt a flicker of fear at precisely what Bellatrix would do once in the school, but the twinge of the Mark on his arm gave him courage enough to flatten this concern.

"It is my desire, Draco, to end Albus Dumbledore," Voldemort said, tone strong. "And I want you to do it."

Draco's eyes shot up, Narcissa lowered her head and Bellatrix widened her eyes in delight. All three stared at Voldemort, heats pounding. Narcissa and Bellatrix were aware of Voldemort's plan already but Draco shook his head, indicating he didn't feel able to carry out the Dark Lord's wishes.

Voldemort stared resolutely back at the boy. "You will do as I say, Draco. You may use any means at your disposal, but if Dumbledore does not die this school year, there will be… repercussions." The Dark Lord gave a sinister smile, letting the fear of an attack on his family cement with Draco.

"My Lord," Bellatrix spoke reverently. "Let me kill him?"

"No, the boy is to do it," came the harsh reply and she lowered her head in fear.

"You, Bella," the Dark Lord said, casting a hand towards her cheek, lifting her face back up. "You will teach him Occlumency, before he returns to school, in preparation."

"Yes, my Lord," she murmured, voice constricted with emotion at being given such a key role in the mission.

Beside her, Narcissa stiffened, clearing her throat. "My Lord," she began, eyes cast downwards, her long blonde hair falling to cover her face. She was unused to speaking in his presence, and her voice trembled slightly. "Dumbledore is a skilled Occulemens. How can Draco hope to close his mind against such power?"

Bellatrix scoffed, but Voldemort smiled. "You raise a good point, Narcissa," he said simply. "But Bellatrix is as equally skilled. I taught her myself." He glanced at Bellatrix, a note of pride in his voice. "I don't doubt she has the ability to help Draco."

Glowing with excitement, Bellatrix felt tears build in her eyes. "Indeed, Cissy. I learned from the very best," she whispered, her eyes focused on the Dark Lords face. She placed her hand on her sister's arm, fingers caressing the material beneath them. Narcissa nodded, unable to press the matter any further.

"Tomorrow you will go to Borgin and Burkes," Voldemort said, "to understand how best to mend the Cabinet " He swept his robes around himself. "Until then, goodnight." And with that He strode purposefully towards the hall without a backwards glance.

Narcissa looked at her son with fear, and he gazed back eyes swimming with uncertainty. "Draco..." she began, moving to hold him. "It'll be alright." She sounded unsure, as though trying to reassure herself as well.

Bellatrix knew she was lying. She knew Narcissa thought this assignment punishment for her husband's failure in retrieving the Prophecy from the Department of Mysteries. Bellatrix remembered the Dark Lord's rage clearly; He'd held her under bitter curses as well for the failure, though she blamed Lucius entirely. He was given the mission not her, but Voldemort had not differentiated when dealing out punishment, and she had flinched at the look of anger in His eyes as he tortured her. She had since regained the Dark Lord's favour, but He remained resolutely angry at Lucius and frequently mentioned his failure.

Bellatrix glanced at Draco, her heart swelling at the thought of him completing the task. Though the Dark Lord wasn't angry with her anymore, she knew that his success would bring the entire family back under His praise, and she knew she would be rewarded for her role in the events.

"Draco," she said, capturing the attention of the blonde boy who looked quite sick. "Your lessons will begin tonight. We have no time to lose." She reached out a hand to caress his face gently. "You will come to my room at nine and we shall begin."

Draco nodded, flinching slightly at his aunt's touch.

Bellatrix removed her hand, turning to her sister who was once again crying silently. She hated seeing her upset. Fenrir was right, she did hold a soft spot for Narcissa and her boy. Bellatrix leaned close, pressing a kiss to her sister's cheek. "Don't worry, Cissy," she breathed against her. "I'll train him well."

With a small nod, Narcissa returned her sisters embrace, closing her eyes against the tears.

Draco looked on with intrigue, never having seen Bellatrix express a kind emotion except for her infatuation with the Dark Lord. He reassured himself that he would be able to carry out this mission, feeling slightly nauseas at the idea but highly thankful his aunt would be helping him. He wondered, though, what secrets she would uncover when she read his mind and how able he was going to be to resist her when he both feared her and enjoyed her attention.

Only time would tell.


End file.
